


Sanctuary

by salishseaselkie



Series: A Song of Broken Treasures [1]
Category: Dragon Age II
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Smut, NSFW, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-25
Updated: 2016-04-25
Packaged: 2018-06-04 09:56:42
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,328
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6653251
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/salishseaselkie/pseuds/salishseaselkie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Three years after their one-night stand, Fenris and Geneva reconcile.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sanctuary

Three years.

Geneva remembered it full well, that night and what had led to it. She’d shamelessly flirted with Fenris, knowing full well that his heart was a sack full of broken pieces. She’d only been interested in the end result, now that she looked back on her abhorrent behavior. And in the end, he’d broken hers, and she had not even had the heart to blame him.

Cause and effect. Both were clear to her.

She remembered his teeth clacking against hers – by his own admission, he had never been with a woman, at least, that he could recall, so the movements were clumsy and hurried at first. She remembered how his hands wanted to be everywhere at once, to feel her…to hold her as she might have guessed he also wanted to be held. She remembered how slowly in comparison he peeled away her clothes – reverent, almost, and careful, as though she would have shattered under an errant touch. She remembered how it felt to have his lean muscles moving beneath her palms, his brands coiling like bright serpents over his dusky skin. She remembered guiding his hands and sinking her own into his starlight hair as he brought her to the edge.

She remembered how hard he tried to stave off coming to his own descent, and how magnificent it finally was when he fell.

And then, once more, he was out of reach.

It hurt for weeks after he left, and she blamed herself for months – she should never have allowed herself the indulgence, she should have known that he was in too much anguish to truly let himself enjoy such passions. And it took him three years to admit to her that he still cared, that he still yearned. She could only give him one response – for all the distance she had conceded, she still loved him.

She pondered all of this in the sanctuary of her bed, beneath the thick red coverlet, warm from the heat of two naked bodies. She glanced over – Fenris slept this time, peaceful and placid, no sign of agony or grief. If he remembered anything of his past this time, he gave no hint of it. In fact, the slightest hint of a smile raised up the corner of his lips just so – you would have had to know him for six years to realize that it was even there.

She shifted on the mattress, sliding over next to him and curling up against his rib cage, her cheek on his chest. She’d always thought of him as the one needing protection, from slavers and magisters speaking of him as an object, some _thing_ without thought or desire or fear, but after Leandra died, when he came to her, even after they had separated, she had considered that maybe he thought the same of her. She had lost Bethany, then Carver, and when Carver left, so had Antonia. And then all she had left was Leandra and Gamlen, and Gamlen was never truly any comfort. Perhaps it was so that she was the one who needed looking after.

Fenris, she had not realized, was a light sleeper. It made sense though, and she chastised herself for not thinking of it sooner. As soon as she exhaled onto his chest, he stirred, breathing deep the moonlit night. Geneva felt a hand touch her hair, then rest on her back. “Can you not sleep, Gen?” She nuzzled his chest.

“My body wants to, but my mind is a bit busy.” He rolled onto his side to throw his arm over her and pull her close.

He pressed a kiss to the crown of her head. “Well, you have had a busy day.” She hummed an agreement. Silence followed, and then: “What were you thinking about?” She drew a finger lightly over one of his markings.

“You. And me. How…how we have changed over the years.” She smiled against his skin. “How I am coming to realize that you are just as viciously protective of me as I have been of you.” Fingers drew up her spine as he considered his response.

His voice was pensive, heavy with memory and aching. “I just don’t want you to be alone.” Alone. Fenris knew a great deal about being alone. She remembered all that he had said of that, and it made sense that he should strive to keep her from that fate.

“Carver wrote to me,” she whispered.

“Oh? And how is the pup?” She chuckled.

She stretched her legs. “He’s a full-fledged Warden now. He gets his own assignments and everything now. He can even recruit – not that the Wardens are really pressed for those right now. Still, it seems he is coming into his own. Not dwelling in my shadow seems to have done him a lot of good.” She didn’t mean to sound so regretful, but when you have known someone for six years, you hear, and Fenris was just as, if not more, observant than Geneva.

He cupped the back of her head and kissed her again, this time on the temple. “Carver loves you, Gen. You are all he has outside the Order. If he truly is coming into his own, I can hardly see how he can begrudge you anything. And last we saw him, he looked truly happy with where he was.”

“Despite the streets amok with Qunari.”

“Hmm, yes,” he chuckled. The pads of his fingers drew lines over her jaw, and his hand went to her throat. Were it anyone else touching her in this way, they would have been electrocuted, but Fenris was always gentle with her. His thumb brushed over the slope of her neck, and then came to rest on her pulse point. He would not make her feel caged, even in lovemaking.

She looked up and his luminous green eyes were full with affection, devotion, adoration – whatever one might wish to call it. The effect was the same: she felt like the only person in the world worthwhile. “I know my ability to convey my feelings has not always been the most effective, but I need to tell you, Hawke…I need you to know that I have always loved you.”

She could only smile, a warm and hopeful simper given out of unadulterated joy. “I know, Fenris. I have always known.” His eyes crinkled as he grinned back.

He scoffed. “I can’t be subtle even when I try.” He looked away, down to his hand in a display of wry deprecation.

She murmured back warmly, “No indeed…” She watched as he turned his hand to allow his knuckles to skim the delicate curve of her breast, almost making a study of her as his eyes followed with rapture. She thought perhaps he had distracted himself with how quiet he had become when he smoothed his hand over her rib cage and then raised it to cup her breast and bring the tip of it to his mouth. Geneva’s eyes rolled back. Her breath quickened and her sex suddenly ached, a swift response to the pull of Fenris’s mouth on her nipple.

He kneaded the soft flesh, spurred on by her mewling and her hands digging into his scalp, as he sucked and teased her. His teeth grazed her nipple, and she nearly came out of her skin.

Three years they had to make up for, but Fenris seemed eager, and she was ready to give it another try. Lips met with lips and hands reached to please and stimulate the other. Voices become muffled whispers and anticipating moans shrouded in the shadows of the night. Fenris whipped back the blanket, and Geneva gasped at the feel of cold air as he set upon her body as if to devour her.

Three years, she’d waited for this. And as she opened herself to intimate touches and wordless prayers, she knew.

It had been worth the wait.


End file.
